Polar Quest
The LC-130 Hercules turboprop plane jumped and dropped as the turbulence buffeted it about the sky. Annja Creed, dressed in extreme-cold-weather gear issued to her by the U.S. military, clutched at the armrests on her seat. She felt as if her stomach were on a roller-coaster ride and had forgotten to inform her.
She swallowed the rising bile in her throat and felt the plane lurch again. "This is getting ridiculous," she said. She unclasped her seat belt and tried to stand, bumping her head against the interior bulkhead in the process.
"Damn."
If the plane was going to crash, she at least wanted to see it coming rather than sit trapped in her seat. Annja clawed her way forward toward the cockpit.
She passed one of the crew on her way. "Is it always like this?"
He grinned. "Yup. This time of year, it's always stormy down in these parts. You get used to it after a few trips."
"Wonderful," she said, not feeling any better about the turbulence.
She made her way to the flight deck. "Hi."
The pilot turned. "You're supposed to be strapped in, Miss Creed. It's not exactly safe for you to be roaming around."
Annja smiled. "I got the distinct impression that it wasn't safe ... read full excerpt from: Polar Quest ebook
